


To The Victor

by Tish



Category: The Bill
Genre: M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beware of the consequences when playing one off against the other!</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Victor

**Author's Note:**

> The Bill is owned by Pearson Media, I'm just taking the characters for a joy-ride.

Up in CID, Smiffy and Skase, figurative tape measures drawn. Arch comments flung around - arched eyebrow from Smiffy, smug comments from Skase. Klein's in the middle, neutral, waiting for the end of the day - for the victor.  
  
In the car with Smiffy, a carefully worded remark designed to be comforting but only serving to wind up the savage beast even more. Nick smiles.  
  
At refs in the canteen, a few choice words to support Skase, instead making him even more pissed off. Nick is pleased.  
  
Finally, in the pub. A well-oiled Smiffy versus a half-soused Skase, Nick nestling in the armchair between the couches. The rest of the relief already drifted away, bored by the Alpha-Male strutting and preening. Nick's almost beside himself with delight and lust.  
  
Smiffy lumbers up from his couch, "Wanna 'nother one, Nick?" pointedly ignoring Rod.  
  
Nick smiles a thank you to Smiffy as Rod grins, "I'll have a Scotch, if you're buying!" His only reply is a raised finger from the retreating figure.  
  
Smugness undiminished, Rod announces his intention to _spend a penny_. Nick watches Smiffy waiting at the busy bar and darts after Skase.  
  
  
  
Inside the dingy bog, Rod's loitering beside a cubicle, "Knew you'd come--," getting cut off by Nick's lips passionately closing over his own, a hand wandering down his suit and undoing his fly.  
Rod gasps through the kisses as Nick works away, before dipping down to finish the job.  
  
Rod slumps back against the wall, spent, as Nick moves out of his fuzzy field of view. Legs like jelly and eyes spinning in separate directions, Rod breathes in and out.  
  
Nick's adjusting a cushion as Smiffy returns. Sculling his drink, he whispers something to the taller man. Smiffy smiles and looks round furtively before dragging Nick out the door, drink untouched.   
Rod regains bodily co-ordination in time to see the shared look, the smiles and the touch.   
  
Rod can't help smiling at Nick's deviousness - he'll enjoy getting his revenge.  
  
  
  
A few whispered words in Smiffy's ear seems enough to convince that Skase is just a sore loser and a gossip to boot.  
Skase watches as Smiffy stomps off, then kicks the wall in frustration. He needs to gets his own back on Nick, but it's not working.  
  
For his part, Smiffy keeps telling himself that Rod's full of shit - but still it plays on his mind. Nick's butter-wouldn't-melt smile does nothing to dampen his suspicions, even though Smiffy tells himself he's got no reason to be jealous or possessive.  
  
Rod stares into space, thinking, trying not to let his cases distract him too much from his Plan.  
So far, that's all it is, the word Plan, with a capital 'P' - then a blank page. Bugger.  
  
Rod plays with his elastic bands, eyeing off DS Boulton, wondering if Boulton'll be up for a bit of revenge. Possibly, if Rod could convince him he'd be very _grateful_ and _obliging_....but knowing the DS, he'd turn it round to something _weird_ \- the ginger Scouse git.  
Rod's musings on Boulton's inventiveness are reluctantly discarded as Klein wanders into the office, files in hand for Boulton. Rod's pretending to be busy as he eavesdrops on their conversation.   
  
Work, some swindler in the area, but Rod imagines all sorts of hidden meaning in the discussion. He shakes off the feeling and tries to sort out his Plan.   
  
  
  
Smiffy snorts with derision at Rod's Plan, "Sounds like a wind-up," is his flat assessment.  
  
"C'mon Smithy, he's been winding us both up. He deserves it!" Rod urges.  
  
Smiffy slowly smirks, "It does sound like fun, though..."  
  
Rod grins, lazy eyes twinkling at the thought.  
  
  
  
Nick feigns interest as Rod chats to him, perking up at the mention of Rod's apartment - occupant, one. (Or one, plus ego...)  
  
  
Cut to a few hours later...  
  
Nick's pawing and groping at Rod's body through his clothes as Rod pins him against a wall. Rod steers the conversation to last night, but Nick's not having any of it, "Just shut up and get yer clothes off!", he mutters between biting Rod's neck.  
Instead, Rod hems him in and pulls Nick's shirt off, as Nick undoes his jeans ready for them to be ripped down. Soon, Nick's naked and getting very happy indeed.  
  
Rod smirks, "Got a surprise for you!", as Smiffy steps out from the bathroom behind Nick and manhandles him across to the foot of the bed before handcuffing him through the bars. Nick's not particularly phased by this, a sly grin crossing his face.   
  
"Perverts!" his laugh smothered as he's gagged with Rod's tie.  
  
  
Rod and Smiffy stand over him, satisfied grins on their faces. Nick's expectant look is turned to a frown as Rod shrugs, "Footy's on in a minute. Wanna pizza?"  
  
Smiffy nods, "Yeah, 'kay. Seeya monkey boy," he winks down at Nick.  
  
  
  
The muted sounds of the match filter through the bedroom door as Nick's shoulders begin to ache. He's getting grumpy, uncomfortable and more than a little bored in the dark. The smell of pizza reminds him of his hunger and he can taste Rod's _Eau de Wanker_ aftershave on the tie.  
  
After a long while, the door opens and Smiffy stands in the doorway with an evil grin and a slice of Hawaiian, "Half-time. Spurs are down 3-1. Want some?"  
  
Nick nods as Smiffy ungags him and holds up the slice.  
  
"Good lad. Give you an appetite for anything else?" Smiffy leers.  
  
Rod appears in the doorway, "Game'll be back in a minute."  
  
Smiffy smiles, "This game's more fun. Got the key?"  
  
Rod frowns, "Key? They're your handcuffs."  
  
Nick looks up at them, "Oi! Stop pissing about."  
  
Smiffy's making a show of going through his pockets and scratching his head as Rod squats next to him, stuffing his face with pizza. Smiffy sighs, "Erm, we might have to call for help, Nick."  
  
Rod's smirking, "Polly Page is doing this area this week. Bet she'd be happy to help out."  
  
"No, anyone but Polly!" snaps Nick.  
  
"Don't worry, Sprog Hayward's with her," Smiffy laughs, as Nick scowls. Eventually, Smiffy produces a key and sets him free, pulling him up.   
  
  
Nick sees a chance and cuffs Rod to the railings, a triumphant smile crossing his face, swiftly followed by a laugh from a retreating Smiffy. Smiffy's got Nick's clothes and Nick chases after him, realising too late that Smiffy is pushing him out the front door, the clothes thrown at him before the door shuts.   
  
Smiffy's eyebrow arches as he returns to Rod, making sure the key is safely out of reach...  
  
Nick stands, naked and defeated on the landing before sussing that he has an audience. Rod's elderly neighbour stands frozen in her doorway, garbage bag ready for the bin, her eyes tracking up and down his body. Nick can only smile and wink at her, "Warm night, innit?"


End file.
